"Go back to the customers," I urge.
"Talk to you tomorrow? I like hearing your voice."
Those simple words fill me with joy and giddiness.
"Sure. Good night, Blake."
"Good night."
I click off the phone, placing it on the floor next to my bed. Ugh, my alarm is going to ring in five hours. But still, even though I know I should go to sleep, I allow myself a few minutes to bask in my giddiness. I can't wait to return home and pepper him with kisses, climb in his lap. I am going to make Blake the happiest man. Yes, I am. He deserves it, and ahem, maybe he'll even fall in love with me.
I sigh happily into my pillow, even though I should know better than to hope like a romantic fool.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Blake
"Sinclair agreed to our terms," I inform Alice over the phone while I hurry up toward Ghirardelli Square, where I'm meeting Summer and Daniel.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Alice's shrill voice makes me wince.
"Wow, easier on the enthusiasm, sister, or my ear will be ringing until our next call."
"I didn't make any headway on the phone, and I was sure we were going to lose him. Thank you for going to him in person."
"Well, I'm here to save the day."
"I'm so lucky I can count on you."
"Of course you can."
The business is running like a well-oiled machine, and I'm damn proud of it, but I can't turn my mind off from always thinking about ways to improve processes, cutting costs without lowering quality or squeezing our partners dry. I don't need more money. I have enough money. Too much of it, actually. More than one person would ever need. But I discovered a few years ago that there is a thrill to building businesses and making them thrive. I've always had too much energy. In my early twenties, I wasted it on parties and hanging around with people who weren't worth my time, much less my energy or affection. Then I got my head out of my ass, focused more on the family and on building something.
"You're meeting Summer now, right?"
"Yep. Daniel too."
"Can you do me a favor and put on your best entertainment show for her?"
"What happened?"
"Love troubles. Another douchebag playing with her. But don't tell her I said anything."
Just like that, I take my business hat off, slipping into brother mode.
"What? She's dating? Who do I have to kill?" Here's the thing: Logan is in intense mode all the time, and Christopher and Max are on the relaxed end of the spectrum. I'm way more balanced. But when someone threatens to hurt my family, I switch to motherfucking intense in five seconds flat.
"Don't be dramatic."
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Okay, I'll settle for maiming."
"I have to go now, but just cheer her up, please?"
"Deal."
I arrive at our meeting point in Ghirardelli Square at the same time as Daniel. Summer is already at a booth, inspecting some gigantic red flower that looks like the stuff of kids' nightmares. A cross between a carnivorous plant and the boogeyman. Come to think of it, I will probably have nightmares because of it.
Summer wants to plant some new stuff in her yard, and she asked Daniel and me to come here with her today to look at the temporary pop-up flower market and help carry the supplies. Considering the amount of planning and scheduling it takes to see my own family these days, I jump at any occasion, even when I'm practically being used as a flower mule. Mid-June strikes me as an odd period to plant flowers, but it's not like I know anything on the subject.
"Hello, fellow Bennetts," I greet.
Summer kisses my cheek, then shows me her list. Correction. Flower, pots, earth, and fertilizer mule.
"Thank you both so much for helping me," Summer says. "I'm buying you drinks for this."
"Excellent!" Daniel eyes her list with a raised eyebrow. "Can we start with that?"
"We'd better. You're gonna need sustenance. There's a booth with snacks and drinks over there." She elbows us playfully, and then we head toward the booth. Five minutes later, sodas in hand, Daniel asks me, "You going to Emma's birthday?"
"Nah, too many people I don't want to see there."
"Same for me."
Emma's cousin was the one who wanted to sell the details I told her about Pippa's divorce to the press. Emma did assure me she had no idea, but by that time, I didn't believe any of them anymore, so I stepped way back. That's what you do when you can't tell the true friends from the fake ones. Here's the thing though, always keeping your guard up is exhausting, not to mention lonely as hell. Daniel has always been the more distrustful of the two of us, kept his guard up more than I did.